


Tell Her It's Gonna Last Forever

by MadameMayorRM



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMayorRM/pseuds/MadameMayorRM
Summary: Wish Granters of America approach Regina Mills with an unusual request. Though she hasn't seen anyone from her high school in years and doesn't even remember her, Regina is the only person who can fulfill Emma Swan's one wish...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello dears! In honor of the end of an era on our screens, I have decided to post this little story I have been sitting on for a while. I hope you like it. It will be a multi-chapter story. No promises on how soon I will update but the second chapter is already written if that helps.
> 
> I want to tell you from the bottom of my heart how much I love SwanQueen and Swen! It has been an honor to write stories that these characters deserve. I hope to continue doing that as long as you continue to read them. Remember, SwanQueen belongs to Swen! Always has... always will.
> 
> Housekeeping-I do not own these characters and mean no harm by using them, however any OC's and the story itself are mine.
> 
> Thanks as always to Jenn for reading and helping me with my thoughts and thank you to Teresa... for your seemingly endless faith in my abilities. I adore you!

"Thank you for meeting with me Ms. Mills. I was afraid you wouldn't." Bud Hollingsworth took a seat and blew a cooling breath across his much too creamed coffee. He may as well have ordered hot milk.

"Well, I admit, I was skeptical at first. I'm not really sure what Wish Granters could possibly want to talk to me about." Regina sipped her vanilla chai and studied the man across from her.

When Bud had called last week, asking to meet with her, she had turned down the request outright. But after researching and finding he was indeed a representative of the Wish Granters of America organization that was responsible for giving children with terminal illness the one thing they longed for as they battled disease, she had accepted his request to meet.

Still, research or not, she had decided against having him to her home a few blocks from White Point Garden in Charleston's historic district. She wasn't a complete idiot. Meet strangers in public places or not at all. That was just common sense.

So they had opted to meet up in a coffee shop. Tourists were few here. Most of the folks lounging in over-stuffed chairs or seated at small tables in mismatched chairs, hunched over laptop computers were locals—writers, students and the like. Regina liked to come here to write while Henry was at school. She liked the feeling of people all around and yet complete isolation as she withdrew into the worlds she created in her short stories.

Regina waited for the man to begin. He was short and stout, wearing a suit that seemed overly formal for the exposed brick and copper tiled ceiling of Bluestone Café where they were sitting. She pinched the corner off a lemon square impatiently while the man cleaned his glasses with his tie and fumbled with a folder in his tattered messenger bag.

"Mr. Hollingsworth, I don't wish to be rude, but I do have other appointments today." Regina said with her most neutral smile. Not too warm, not too distant… just the sort of smile that had won her the political hearts of her town in Maine. Just the smile that had made her PTA president three years in a row when Henry started school after the move south. Just the sort of smile that those who knew her well knew not to play around with. It seemed to do the trick.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry. I know this must seem quite cloak and dagger to you. I really do have something to share. I just seem…" He tugged on the folder. It was hung on something. "I just… seem…" Tug. "To be…" Tug. "Having some trouble…" Tug. Finally it was free. "There we are. Now. The reason we are here."

The man laid the maroon colored folder on the table and his soft hands atop it. Regina wrinkled her nose unconsciously. She didn't trust men with soft hands. Daniel had calloused hands. He worked hard to make a good life for them and he was a whiz with money and numbers but he still managed to work with his hands enough so they felt rough in her own. Why had that always been a comfort to her? Strange.

Daddy had rough hands too.

"Do you recall a girl you went to school with in Storybrooke by the name of Emma Swan?" Hollingsworth's voice cut through her thoughts and pulled her back into the moment.

She frowned in concentration. "Emma Swan? No. I don't think so. Should I?"

The man shook his head. "Not really. She tells me she was a year behind you and was not exactly in your social circle. I take it you were quite popular." He smiled, meaning no harm.

"Homecoming queen, class president, most likely to succeed. I suppose some would say I was popular. But being the top dog in a small school like mine was a little but like wetting yourself in dark trousers. You get a warm feeling but the rest of the world scarcely notices." Regina winked a little awkwardly at the man. For all her charm and appeal, winking wasn't her strong point. But her awkward attempts she had even found useful in her arsenal of manipulations while clawing her way to the top in life. It was disarming, endearing and set people at ease.

"I believe Miss Swan said as much. About your long list of accomplishments. Not about… wetting oneself." A hint of an embarrassed blush appeared on already too rosy cheeks.

"So what does any of this have to do with Wish Granters or with me? I thought you only did things for children. What am I missing?" Regina pressed on with the conversation.

"First of all, in the interest of full disclosure I must tell you that, while I am an agent and employee of Wish Granters of America, I am not acting as an agent of WGA today. This meeting is strictly off the record. We do not grant wishes for adults. However, when I spoke to Miss Swan, there was just something about her that… Are you sure you don't remember her?" He held out a photo of a blonde woman, perhaps thirty-five years old. She was very attractive and smiling. Regina looked longer than was strictly necessary to assure the man she was taking this seriously.

"I'm afraid I don't know her. Perhaps she's changed since high school?" She pinched another corner from her square and licked it from her finger.

"I did try to find a photo from your yearbook but it seems there is no record of her, pictorial record that is. She was indeed a classmate. You were a senior when Miss Swan moved in with a foster family temporarily in Storybrooke before she was placed permanently in a group home until she was eighteen. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Those facts should be things you discuss with her—"

"With her? When would I talk to her? I don't even know her." Regina was growing impatient and her temper was threatening to spill over her amenable façade. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we Mr. Hollingsworth? What is this about?"

The man cleared his throat. "She's dying."

Regina nodded. "I had assumed since that is the nature of your business." Seeing the man eyeing her with judgement, she went on. "I do not mean to sound indifferent to her plight. I am not. I am sorry she is sick, but I don't understand what that has to do with this meeting or with me."

"Eight years ago, Miss Swan was diagnosed with an aggressive ovarian cancer. With surgery and treatment she was able to beat the odds and has been in remission. However, the cancer… well, it has returned. She hasn't been given much hope." The man took a sip of his hot milk coffee. "She has decided to forgo all treatment and enjoy her remaining days without the, as she called it, hell of healing with modern medicine."

Regina frowned. Why wouldn't the woman at least try to live if that was an option? But then, she had almost given up when…

No. You wouldn't have given up because of Henry.

"That's terrible. I'm so sorry." Regina softened to the story of the stranger in the photograph.

"Well, now I come to why I am here. Miss Swan came to our offices on a last chance mission. She had been searching for you for some time with little luck. We, of course, could do nothing to assist her officially, but I have been, on my own time, doing what I could." Bud Hollingsworth suddenly became more than an overdressed man with soft hands and Regina felt a mild pang of guilt for her judgment.

"Ms. Mills, please hear me out before you say anything. This young woman is living her last moments and the only thing she wants in the world is something only you can give her."

Regina shook her head, bewildered. "But what can she possibly want from me?"

Hollingsworth let out a long, slow sigh. "To be perfectly honest, she… well…" He steeled himself and finally said what he'd come here to say.

"Her last wish is to spend the night with you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again my dears! I am so glad to hear from so many of you about the first installment in this story. I hope you enjoy everything going forward.
> 
> Several of you have asked me to post a warning for those who do not wish to read a story in which a major character dies. Please know that, as with former stories, if I intend to kill someone or offer something unbearably sad... I always say so. If I don't, then there is nothing to warn you about. You may interpret that as you wish.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Leave me a comment and let me know what you think.

"Please tell me you aren't considering this." Mallory Page pulled her long legs up onto the white leather sectional sofa in Regina's living room and swirled her wine in her glass.

Tonight was the regular meeting of Regina's book club. They'd long ago given up any pretense of reading and discussing books, much to Mary Margaret Nolan's chagrin. The young woman had actually enjoyed delving into the hidden meaning and symbolism of stories. But the other ladies—Mallory, Kathryn Goldman and even their resident bookworm, Lacy French—were more interested in wine and gossip and time with the girls than in any actual broadening of their mental horizons with a book.

"I didn't say I was considering it, Mal." Regina poured herself another glass of wine at the sidebar.

"No," Kathryn spoke up, "but you didn't exactly say it was out of the question, either."

"I think it's romantic," Lacy said from her place on the floor, with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Of course you do." Mal rolled her eyes but nudged Lacy good-naturedly in her shoulder with the side of her foot.

"Regina," Mary Margaret began, "I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, but I think you should take one of us with you if you do meet with her. What if she's a psychopath? I saw on Crime Time about a lady who went to meet a guy from the internet at a restaurant and she disappeared. The last they ever saw of her was this grainy surveillance video and—"

"Oh, for the love of Mike!" Regina interrupted. "I haven't said I was going to meet her. And Mary you seriously need to stop watching those true crime shows. It can't be healthy."

Regina took her seat at the end of the sofa and felt four sets of eyes burning into her. She looked all around, anywhere but at them, hoping they would let it go. That wasn't about to happen. She sighed and leaned forward, balancing her weight on her elbows atop her knees. She rolled the wine glass between her hands a few times, thinking.

"Ok. So, maybe I have been thinking about it. But I haven't decided."

A cacophony of sound rose from the quartet beside her. Mary Margaret was on the floor, walking on her knees toward Regina in a moment. Mal sat up and put her feet flat on the floor. Some of the cries were of glee, in favor and full support. Some were the voice of reason, suggesting she not make a hasty decision. Regina drank from her glass and waved them all back with one hand.

"Give me a chance to explain. I have actually thought this out… sort of." She sat back into the sofa and pulled her feet up. She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest protectively. If not for the physical indicators in appearance and dress, these five women looked for all the world like teenage girls at a sleepover sharing a secret.

"Well, go ahead. Spill it." Mal huffed, sitting back. She would be the first to admit that since Regina moved in to the house across the street from her, pregnant and newly widowed, she had felt an overwhelming protective sense for the woman. She had learned rather quickly that Regina was a force of nature and didn't exactly need the kid-glove treatment, but still, the feeling had persisted.

Knowing she had the floor, Regina began. "So, like I said, Mr. Hollingsworth said she wants to spend the night with me. I was—naturally—shocked to hear this."

"Naturally." Kathryn chimed in with her usual sarcastic edge.

Regina ignored the interruption. "But, he didn't seem to think that was the important part of the story."

"Regina—may I call you Regina?—I think we can get woefully off track here if we focus on the fact that Miss Swan was indeed not asking about a sleepover experience featuring hair braiding and make-overs like a couple of high school chums. I think what we need to stick with is that you have the power to help a dying woman leave this plane of existence with a little joy." Bud Hollingsworth braced himself for another round of Hurricane Regina.

Instead of exploding as he expected, the woman pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger and breathed deeply. "You've got two minutes before I walk out of here so use them wisely."

"Alright." He opened the folder. "Here is everything I've been able to learn about Miss Swan in the limited time I've had. While she had some run-ins with the police as a teenager, she is not a criminal. She worked until her illness for a small law firm in New York as an investigator. She had a neat little nest egg saved up and has cashed it and her 401K in.

So far, she has seen the Northern Lights, driven down Route 66, and gone backstage to meet Stevie Nicks in concert. All this, she did without our aid. But, despite her best efforts and her investigator's knowledge and favors to call on, she was unable to locate you.

Now, all I am suggesting here is that you call her. Talk to her. If you feel comfortable with it after talking, perhaps you could meet her for drinks or coffee or dinner. That is it. But that would mean more to her than you realize." The man took a too large bite of his chocolate muffin and chewed, dusting crumbs off his tie. He swallowed hard and took a drink of his coffee. "She's quite enamored of you. At least, the memory of you. And deep down I think she just wants to talk to you."

"Damn." Mary Margaret wasn't one to swear so the word coming from her mouth caught everyone off guard.

"Damn indeed, Mary." Kathryn said, mulling over Regina's story. She hadn't given all those details earlier.

"So you see, I am… maybe… considering at least calling her. What harm can it do?" Regina waited for the negative reaction she was sure to get from Mal.

"So… does this mean you are gay? Lesbian? Bisexual? I'm confused." Mary Margaret looked embarrassed by her own questions but Regina could see from the curiosity in everyone's faces that it wasn't just Mary who wanted to know.

"I'm… not sure." Regina said, shining a light into her own heart and wondering what she might find there with some thoughtful introspection. She'd never been with a woman. Never dated one. But she had had a crush on a girl in college that had terrified her. Mother would have disowned her for even a crush, let alone something more.

"Not sure?" Mal said, raising a skeptical brow. She always looked right past Regina's veneer. Good thing they were friends. She would make a dangerous enemy.

"No. I'm not sure. I haven't really considered it before. My…" She hesitated. Talking about her mother, even with these friends, was difficult. The woman hadn't been easy to live with during Regina's growing up years. "Let's just say my upbringing didn't allow for such things so I never let myself explore the idea. But…"

Both Kathryn's eyebrows rose toward her hairline. "But…." She prompted Regina to go on.

Regina sighed and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "But… but I admit when I saw her photograph I felt… drawn to her. She is very attractive. And I would be…." She hesitated again before plowing ahead. "I would be open to examining the possibility of a relationship with a woman. If and only if the right woman came along. I'm not saying this Emma Swan is that person. I'm just saying there is no reason why I should redefine my sexuality just to call her. Right?"

There was a long moment of contemplative silence. Everyone seemed to be processing the whole situation.

"I think you should go for it." Lacy laid a gentle hand on Regina's bare foot on the sofa.

"Me too," Mary said definitively. Kathryn nodded her agreement.

"And what about you, you old dragon. What do you think?" Regina looked at the woman who had been her friend, confidant and support for these last twelve years, raising Henry alone in a new city that was now more her home than Storybrooke, Maine had ever been.

Mal studied Regina for a long moment before shrugging. "I think…" She looked at all her friends and smiled. "I think, I live right across the street and I'll be happy to sit for Henry for a couple hours. And if she does come home with you… flick your porch light a few times and I'll come running with a kitchen knife and can of pepper spray."

It was settled. Regina was going to call her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I am glad that for this story I opted for slightly shorter chapters. That has helped me with my schedule to write and run so to speak.
> 
> I have had several ask if this is based on an episode of Designing Women. Yes! OMG! I am so glad someone out that remembers that show well enough to notice. It isn't "based" on it as much as inspired by it. I do not know the episode name or when it aired. I haven't seen it probably since the 90s and honestly don't recall it in detail. But the idea of a person wishing to spend the night with someone stuck with me and helped spur this story into existence.
> 
> If you haven't seen Designing Women, look it up. I wanted to BE Julia Sugarbaker. She was my first brunette girl crush. I have always loved powerful women and she was one. If you have seen if, somebody comment or PM me the episode title. I'd love to see it again after all these years once this story is complete.
> 
> Please search Julia Sugarbaker and the night the lights went out it Georgia for a bite size morsel of her awesomeness. You're welcome.
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy this as much as I did.

 

Regina sat at the wide quartz island in her kitchen. Henry was in his room finishing up some homework before they were to head to Shem Creek for a low country boil with Mal and Kathryn and their children. Mal was divorced, Kat separated, Regina widowed. They were like the single again starter pack.

Mal's daughter Lily was a couple years older than Henry and they had basically grown up together. Kat's two—Emory and Chance—were younger, but the older pair always included them. Regina felt blessed beyond measure to have found a group of friends in Charleston when she moved here after Daniel's death. She wasn't sure how she would have coped without them.

She'd been holding the phone in her hand for nearly fifteen minutes, the folder with Emma Swan's information laying in front of her. She pulled out the photo. She was a beautiful woman. Blonde hair, green eyes and a lopsided smile. Regina ran a finger across her face. It was a bit overwhelming to imagine that anyone, let alone this creature, would even think of her at all after so many years.

It had been just over twenty years since she had graduated as salutatorian of her class. She would've been the valedictorian if not for that bastard, Mr. Blanchard refusing to give her an A on her final project. He'd done it for spite, she was sure. He'd asked her more than once to stay after school to "earn extra credit" to make it up. Regina shivered, remembering.

Not long after her graduation from college, she had rolled back into town and been elected Mayor as if every town in America had a 23 year old mayor. But she was a big fish in a small pond. She'd made it her mission from her first day in office to be rid of Mr. Blanchard. It hadn't been too hard. The coward had resigned without a fight when she threatened to expose him for what he was.

But she was just wasting time. Just looking for any excuse not to call Emma. She took a deep breath through her nose, held it in a moment and blew it slowly out through her lips.

Regina dialed the phone. She opted to block her number just in case.

"Hello?" A voice answered on the third ring.

"Hello. May I speak to Emma Swan?" Regina said nervously.

"Listen, I don't want to buy anything, I already donated to the Police Department's drive and I've got all the religion I need ok, so buzz off." The line went dead.

Regina looked at the receiver in her hand in shock. She had mentally planned for a wrong number, an answering machine and an actual Emma answering but she did not have a contingency plan for this. She hit redial and waited.

"Hello?" The voice was slightly more irritated this time.

"Please don't hang up, Miss Swan. This is Regina Mills." Regina blurted the words out in her window of opportunity.

There was silence on the line.

"Hello? Are you there?" Regina spoke into the void.

"This is who?"

"This is Regina Mills. Bud Hollingsworth from Wish Granters gave me your number. Is this… Emma Swan?"

Another deafening silence.

"Hello?" Regina tried again.

"I…I uh…" Emma tried to speak. "God, I'm so sorry I hung up on you. I've been getting so many solicitors lately and the caller id said private so I just assumed. Oh my god. I am so sorry."

Regina smiled. "It's quite alright. I've been hung up on before and with less provocation."

She could hear Emma smiling. "So this is actually Regina Mills? Like _the_ Regina Mills? From Storybrooke High?"

"The one and only. Go Knights!" Regina said, feeling a dusting of color on her cheeks at the awe in Emma's voice. She wasn't sure she deserved that.

"Holy shit." The words were more of rush of breath escaping Emma than actual words. "I didn't think the son of a bitch would actually find you. And I sure as hell never dreamed you would call. Ho-ly shit."

There was a long moment of awkward silence. Regina was waiting for Emma to say something. But it seemed the other woman was waiting too.

"So… Regina Mills." Emma said quietly, her voice very different from the woman who had just slammed the phone down moments ago. "You don't have a clue who I am, do you?"

Regina laughed nervously. "Actually, I'm sorry but… no. I don't."

"It's ok. I didn't imagine you would. I mean you were… well, you were _everything._ And I was just… me." The way Emma spoke it was clear she wasn't fishing for Regina to disagree. It was clear she meant what she was saying.

Regina tried to steer the conversation away from that, unsure and unprepared to navigate such deep waters on this phone call. "So, Mr. Hollingsworth told me you've been busy marking things off your bucket list and—"

"Christ on a cracker!" Emma interrupted her. "Please tell me he didn't tell you what my actual wish was. Fuck! Please… oh god, _please_ tell me he just said I wanted to reconnect." As quickly as a storm blowing across the harbor could change a sunny day to a scary one, Emma's tone and emotions shifted gears.

Regina blushed a bit remembering that this woman on the line had wished to spend the night with her with more than sleeping on her mind. "Well…" The brunette's voice was mildly whiny and went up on the end, almost like a question. "He _may_ have mentioned something about your wanting to…. you know… spend the night—"

Emma interrupted again. "Oh, fuck me."

"What?" Regina said, taken aback.

"No! No! Oh god. No! I mean… fuck me as in, this is awful. Not fuck me as in…. well, _fuck_ me. Sorry. I'm not doing much to make you stay on the line am I?" Regina could almost hear Emma dragging her hand across her face. She sighed and spoke again since Regina clearly wasn't going to. "I just mean, that is maybe the most embarrassing thing that could've happened. And I am so sorry that he told you and that I even asked for that. If you want to hang up, I totally understand."

For a moment, the other woman did consider hanging up. This was already one of the most unusual conversations she'd ever had but she remembered the way Mr. Hollingsworth had spoken of Emma and her unique situation and decided not to bail just yet.

"Don't apologize. While I admit it was a shock to hear, it was also rather flattering. I don't think I've ever had anyone go to such great lengths to spend the night with me before. If you take it back you may bruise my fragile ego." She laughed softly, hoping her appearance of comfort with the whole thing would put Emma at ease.

"Well, I find that unlikely… but ok." Emma said with a disbelieving tone.

Regina frowned. "You find what unlikely? That people make an effort to sleep with me? Because I assure you, the length of time since my last… shall we say, sleepover suggests otherwise." Regina felt warmth in her cheeks at her admission. Why was she saying this to a stranger?

"Actually, I was referring to you having a fragile ego but the other information is good to know. Good to know." Regina imagined the same lopsided grin on Emma's face as was in the photo atop the other papers in the file.

Another awkward silence. "So…."

"Yep." Emma said in response.

Regina's mind was racing. She suddenly wanted to be done with this whole thing. Just call, say hello and satisfy her curiosity while giving this woman something pleasant in lieu of a night together and hang up. So far, it had been awkward, Emma had sworn more than Regina was accustomed to hearing living in the genteel South and both of them seemed uncomfortable.

Logic… reason… good old common sense said to cut her losses and say her good bye's. She needed to get Henry and head to Shem Creek for dinner. She began forming the words in her mind. _It was a pleasure talking to you, Miss Swan. I must be going. Perhaps we will talk again._ Then hang up the phone.

Before she could say anything though, Emma spoke.

"Listen, I know this is incredibly awkward and I really feel overwhelmed that you even made contact with me at all. I might be dying, but I'm not stupid. I can feel you thanking God you blocked your number all the way in New York. And that is totally cool. But, before you hang up, there is something I want to tell you if you will let me."

"Ok." Regina felt naked to have been so clearly seen by this woman she didn't even know.

"When I went to see Bud Hollingsworth, I probably could've presented my request differently. But I had been to several places like his already, and nobody would talk to me. So I said something I thought would shock them enough to get their attention. Now, I'm not taking back what I said. If my memory is worth shit, you are one of the most beautiful women to ever grace this planet and only a fool wouldn't want to spend as much time as possible looking at your face."

Regina sucked in a breath. Something fluttered in her stomach at the way Emma spoke about her and she wasn't altogether sure that she liked it. Her physical beauty often drew unwanted attention. But she was more than a pretty face. She was about to interrupt when Emma surged ahead.

"But, to be honest, your beauty—physical beauty—isn't what made me want to find you."

That was unexpected. "Oh?"

"Listen, that wouldn't have been a horrible reason. Like I said, you are unreal, off the charts beautiful, but it wasn't the reason. Not _the_ reason." Emma emphasized the word the to make it clear she had another, possibly better reason for seeking Regina out. "If you have time, maybe not now but… maybe if you call again and I can make a better second impression than I have made a first, I'd really like to tell you about it. Would that… would that be ok? Not asking for dinner or a meet up. But maybe you could call again sometime?"

Regina was intrigued. Even with warning bells telling her not to, to just run away from a sick and dying woman with a foul mouth and some likely completely made up story to tell, she just kept feeling that little tickle in her tummy. It wasn't totally unpleasant. And though she felt sure she would regret it, she made a decision.

"Yes, Emma. I would like to call you again."


End file.
